


This Pain Wouldn't Be

by writeyourheart



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Post Season 3, Valentines Day Fic, el goes to school !, its hard on her :/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourheart/pseuds/writeyourheart
Summary: El has been having a hard time adjusting to her new life. Mike surprises her on Valentine's Day.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	This Pain Wouldn't Be

**Author's Note:**

> for the twt mutuals <3

**Febuary 1986**

California, El quickly realized, is a constant Summer. Except, really, there’s not much of the _ good _ Summer stuff at all. Days are drenched by heat and dryness from morning to evening, even in the winter, when it was meant to be snowy and chilly. She could rarely ever wear the sweaters she’d stolen from Mike. The sun burned against her skin with insistence, turning the plastic seats at school to fire and making it hard to sit by the window for too long.

It wasn’t all too  _ awful,  _ though. She liked the beach, even if they’d only ever gone a handful of times considering West-Hill was a three-hour drive from the closest one. She liked the way everything just seemed brighter here — the days where the heat was merely  _ warmth; _ comfortable rather than all-encompassing. She liked how she could talk to Max about it on the phone and have her understand it; they’d exchange stories and experiences and El would laugh at how Max groaned at the mention of dry and salty air.  _ “Don’t remind me,” _ She’d say, sounding upset but then asking for El to tell her about it again before they hung up.

It wasn’t all too  _ awful,  _ but still, it wasn’t all too great, either.

Beyond the heat, beyond the waves, beyond the feel of it all is the weight that sits on her chest. The weight of home — the weight of being  _ away  _ from home.

There’d been bad there, a lot of it.  _ Papa, the lab, the monsters, the gate _ .

Joyce had promised her that California would do them good; “A fresh start,” she’d said that day in August, hands clutching hers. “Far away from all the bad things.”

It didn’t take very long for El to realize that she couldn’t necessarily escape the bad at all. Distance didn’t make the pain go away; it didn’t make her forget, and it wouldn’t make her immune to the grief that had been hovering over her since July. You couldn’t run from what was inside — distance was ineffective to that weight in her chest, unmoved by the memories. The bad ones, but the good ones, too.

Hawkins had been flooded with bad, but there had been good. So much of it. Mike, and Hopper, and Lucas and Dustin and Max, Nancy, too; all of them were back there.  _ Home. _ The good was just as inescapable as the bad. Sometimes, the good was worse, because the good was so good that not having any of that goodness anymore felt bad. Missing them hurt.

Especially _ today _ .

It was Valentine’s Day, and the hallways were peppered in pink and red.

Paper-hearts were strung up the ceiling and curled down from thin ribbons that the boys liked to jump up and tug at. Girls were sitting around their desks in circles, chatting and impatiently waiting to be given cards or roses or candy. There were chocolates being sent around, and cupcakes being sold in the cafeteria with pretty pink frosting that curled up at the top.

El watched now, slouching in her seat at the lunch-table as Andy, a boy in her class, gave his girlfriend a box of chocolates and a bright, red rose a few feet away from her. She frowned and turned away from them, her fork fiddling with the cherry tomato in her salad.

She couldn’t help but feel jealous. Not because of Andy, but because she wished her boyfriend was here instead. She missed Mike enough every other day, but Valentine’s day was a blow to the chest.

“I’m sure you’ll see him soon.” El looked up across the table to find Will staring at her with gentleness, chewing on his sandwich. Will’s eyes darted towards Andy and Emma, who were now kissing feverishly without embarrassment, then back to El with that same empathetic gaze. “Mike. You’ll see him soon. I’m sure he misses you today, too.”

El tossed a piece of lettuce into her mouth and shrugged. She didn’t feel like talking very much.

Will sighed from across her, a hand reaching out to grasp at her wrist rested on the tabletop. “Y’know he wanted to be here, but exams are coming up before spring break, and he’s been —”

“Busy. With school. I know,” she said simply, her eyes not quite meeting Will’s. She couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Not with Will, and not with Mike either, but just with all of it. Sometimes it was hard to believe that things in her life would ever quite be right. And even when things did go right, when things felt good, it wouldn’t take very long for the rug to be tugged up from under her again, and she was suddenly drowning in all that wrongness for the millionth time.

Will squeezed her wrist, suddenly, and she could feel the pity through his grasp.

“I’m sorry El,” he whispered from across the table, but she didn’t have the heart to look back at him. Her eyes trailed across the room again, Emma now tucked under Andy’s arm as they made their way out into the hallway, and all she could feel was pathetic jealousy within the pit of her stomach.

* * *

It didn’t take quite long for El to notice how Andy and Emma were certainly  _ not _ the only happy couple at West-Hill High.

Between lunch and last period, El had seen at least a dozen couples pepper each other with gifts and hugs and kisses. She was convinced that she had grown more and more unintentionally bitter at the sight of each one.

As soon as the last period bell rang, she didn’t waste any time running to her locker and grabbing her things in a hurry before meeting Will outside. The world felt extra hot today, maybe because she’d been wearing Mike’s old, blue-patterned sweater despite the heat, or maybe because of the irrational anger that she felt coursing through her. Either way, she was utterly  _ miserable _ . She wanted to get away from all the kissing, and the hugs, and the chocolates so she could melt away in her own bed, waiting impatiently for Mike to call her that night.

Will was sitting on the stairs before the entryway when she met up with him. He looked up at her with a smile. “Ready to go?”

She nodded simply, already walking ahead of him quick enough for him to run in order to catch up to her. She started regretting having put on Mike’s sweater very quickly at the realization that they had to walk home in this weather, seeing as Jonathan was taking up a last-minute shift tonight at Surfer Boy.

They were wandering in silence for most of the walk home, the sun casting orange hues against their skin as the horizon seemed to swallow it whole. Still, despite the setting sun, the world was drenched in heat. They walked slower now, tiredness creeping up on her already. She just wanted to go home.

Will broke the silence first, murmuring, “El.”

She turned to look at him with expectant eyes. “Yes?”

“I miss home, too.”

She raised her eyebrows; was she being  _ that  _ obvious? She felt guilty suddenly, for not having spoken to him much at all today. She sighed, “I’m sorry.”

Will frowned, shaking his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?” He kicked a pebble by his feet, the both of them watching as it slid awkwardly on the sidewalk before slowing to a stop. “It’s normal to miss home…To miss everyone.”

“I know.” She kicked the pebble soon after. “I’m just… Sorry I’m being… sad?” She wasn’t exactly sure how to put it. She hadn’t ever said it out loud before — she’d told Mike about her nightmares sometimes, and she’d talked about the heaviness of her grief, but she’d never acknowledged that beyond the heaviness was merely just sadness — anger and sadness accumulated over years of wrongness.

“You’re allowed to be sad.” He kicked the pebble. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time — I know you think you do, but you don’t.”

She didn’t feel like telling him how she didn’t feel strong at all sometimes; how lately, all she’d ever felt was weak and tired.

Going to school for the first time was draining her; kids were mean, and the anxiety of it all made her speech choppy, and she had to study three times as hard as the other kids to pass. Having lost her powers made her feel useless and exposed. Having lost Hopper was like losing part of her heart, while being away from Mike was like the rest of it was still in Hawkins, cradled within his arms until he could safely return it back to her. 

She didn’t feel like telling him all that, because really, she didn’t even know how to say it. It felt too heavy to be spoken aloud — too heavy to be uttered out on a day where the world was meant to be cheery and dream-like.

Instead, she looked towards Will with softness for the first time that day and tried to offer some sense of goodness. They both deserved it. “You, too.”

He smiled at her — closed-mouthed but authentic, and it didn’t take much out of her to offer one back. She tried not to dwell on her strength for the rest of the walk home.

* * *

The first thing El noticed when they’d arrived home was that Jonathan’s delivery van was in the driveway.

“I thought he was going to work?” El said. Will shrugged next to her, adjusting the strap of his schoolbag against his shoulder.

“He’s probably just running late, I guess.” That made sense. Jonathan was busy all the time: running errands with Joyce, cooking, doing schoolwork, going to  _ actual  _ work. Still though, he’d never been  _ this _ late before.

Ell shrugged and tossed the thought aside; she just wanted to get in bed. Will reached into his back pocket to pull out the house key. They both walked in aimlessly, El yawning and staring down at her shoes until she quite literally  _ walked straight _ into Will.

He had stopped, very suddenly, right by the threshold, her jaw knocking against his shoulder blade.

“Will!” El groaned, frustrated and confused, reaching out to stroke at the soreness of her skin.

“I — I —” He was stuttering out, sounding thrown off guard. El frowned, his back still blocking the view until she quickly moved aside, looked up and  _ gasped. _

There, standing a few feet away, was  _ Mike _ . He was holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a huge, wide grin that overtook half his face — his hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, and when he caught sight of her, his grin widened impossibly bigger. El was certain she had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

“Mike!” She cried out, half-sobbing, half-laughing as she threw her arms around his neck, his awkwardly twining around her waist as he tried not to drop the flowers.

She softened into him entirely, sighing heavily into his shoulder like she hadn’t been able to breathe since the last time they’d seen each other. Maybe, she realized, she hadn’t.

He rocked them back and forth for a second, and all El could think about was how badly she had missed him, how much she had missed this. And still, at the depths of her in this moment, she couldn’t help but acknowledge how still, even within his arms, the heaviness in her chest would refuse to fully dissipate.

She tried to push the fear aside, pulling back a little to press her lips to his in a desperate, lengthy kiss.

“Hi,” he whispered against her mouth as he pulled back slightly.

“Hi,” she whispered back, smiling. “I thought you were too busy to come down this week?”

“I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve,” Mike chuckled. “Happy to see me?”

God, he had no idea. Instead of answering, she kissed him again, arms tightening around his neck for a few seconds before a throat cleared itself right next to them.

Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy were standing on the sidelines, watching with teasing eyes.

“Nancy!” El went out to hug her, too, giving a second for Will and Mike to greet each other before turning to Jonathan themselves.

Will crossed his arms against his chest. “So, what I’m seeing is you  _ could’ve  _ picked us up from school instead of letting us walk home for half an hour under the burning sun?”

“Well,  _ someone  _ had to pick these two up from the airport,” Jonathan retorted, laughing.

Mike turned to her again suddenly, reaching out to hand her the bouquet with an earnest, boyish grin. “These,” he poked them at her, “Are for you.”

“Damn,” Will muttered behind them sarcastically. “Just when I thought those were for me.” El and Mike laughed at his remark before Will started laughing, too. The mood had changed so drastically from a few hours ago, and yet still, despite all the overwhelming shock and happiness, that dark heaviness loomed within the pit of her stomach.

When she looked back up at Mike, she saw something in his gaze that felt familiar; softness, understanding. She wondered if he could feel how she felt just by looking at her — sometimes, it felt like he could.

She tried not to think about it, though. Mike had come all the way to see her and the last thing she wanted was to ruin the mood of it all. Instead, she grabbed the flowers from his hands and thanked him before reaching out to hug him again.

He felt stiff within her arms — or maybe she felt stiff within his — she couldn’t tell. Only when she burrowed her face into the crook of his neck did she realize that they were both mirroring stiffness off of each other.

* * *

They baked cupcakes after settling Mike and Nancy’s things away. Nancy and Jonathan were working on the frosting while Mike lathered batter all over her cheek, forcing a giggle out of her as he went to kiss if off of her face.

Jonathan and Nancy had insisted on going out for dinner, but Mike and El ordered takeout and hung out with Will. They played monopoly for a while, until Will said he was hungry and decided to finish icing the cupcakes himself.

“You guys need some alone time anyway,” he said after they’d asked if he wanted them to help. And so with that, they settled out on the front porch.

The sun had set completely, the darkness only visible from afar due to the brightness of the porchlight that hung up above them.

El’s hands were in Mike’s lap from where they said side by side on the steps. He was telling her  _ all  _ about Lucas and Max’s recent break up. 

“Lucas thinks it’s over for good this time — That she totally turned him down in front of the whole basketball team, too.”

El’s brows furrowed. Max hadn’t told her any of that at all. “I get that she’s having a hard time and everything, but Lucas is really trying to help her and it’s like she’s turning down every shot at help she gets.”

“Max doesn’t like getting help very much,” she said. She’d realized this early on, while she was grieving Billy and El was grieving Hopper. Max didn’t seem to be taking any condolences — she refused to accept any advice, almost as if she refused to accept that she was grieving at all.

“Obviously,” Mike said. “Plus, I don’t think she’s dealing with stuff at home very well. Grief makes people act different, sometimes.” Mike realized his mistake immediately — El’s palm going rigid within his own.

He turned to her very suddenly, one of his hands going up to tuck a curl behind her ear. “Uh, how are you by the way?” He asked. “Will’s been telling me you’ve been quieter since school started again after Christmas. Are people, like, _ bothering _ you or something, because I swear to God I will —”

“ _ Mike _ .” He stopped talking suddenly, eyes widening.

“Sorry,” He mumbled. “I don’t mean to start ranting, I just — I’m worried, that’s all. I know things are hard, and like, I know how strong you are — all _ the time _ — but I just want you to know that it’s okay —it’s okay to let go sometimes.”

Sometimes she thinks he can read her mind, her heart. Things have been hard since Christmas; school making it even worse. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. She looked up at Mike again, his gaze was desperate, and just  _ so good, _ and she couldn’t help but crumble at that. No one could pull honesty out of her the way he could.

She decided not to hold back — she didn’t think she could even if she tried.

El’s fingers stroked his knuckles, her eyes trailing across the patterns she’d been making on his skin. It was easier to focus on his hands when she asked, “Are you ever afraid that things will never be okay again?”

She looked up at him after a few seconds of silence. Mike looked back at her with gentle eyes and nodded softly, squeezing her hand. He didn’t look taken aback at all; almost like he’d been  _ wanting _ her to be real with him. Like he’d been waiting for this. “I think we’re all afraid of that.”

“Do you think they will be though?” She asked, her voice quiet and timid. “Okay again?”

Mike paused to think. She loved how he didn’t just tell her what was easier to hear; she loved how he offered her the truth — how he thought things through before he promised her anything.

His eyes lit up for a second, an idea on his mind. He let go of her hand to tug her calf up and onto his lap, her bare skin rubbing against the course material of his jeans. The scar on her leg was faded, though still pink and somewhat golden under the orange porch light.

He ran his index finger across it, and she shivered, jumping in place.

Mike chuckled and reached out to kiss her cheek apologetically. When he pulled back, he was still smiling. “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” She murmured, smiling back at him. “Just didn’t expect it.”

He wrapped his hand around her calf instead of tracing the scar this time, his touch warm and grounding. “So, let’s think of it like your scar.”

El frowned, unsure what he meant.

“Once, it hurt, really, really bad — Like, it was bleeding, and it was cut open entirely and you could barely walk on it, remember?” She nodded; she’d had to lean on Mike for most of the Summer, hating the uncomfortable wooden crutches Joyce had provided her with. “And then, with time, it healed. It hurt less and less, and the bleeding stopped, and eventually your skin sealed back up again, and the cut was gone.”

“Yeah,” she nodded again. She loved it when he explained things to her — he made stuff feel easy, and simple. He made her remember why missing him hurt so bad.

“Right, so the pain is gone, and the wound is healed but,” he moved his palm off of her skin, his index finger pressing lightly against the middle of her scar, “There’s still a mark.”

El looked at the scraggly scar on her skin and nodded for what felt like the millionth time that night. “Still a mark,” she repeated, her voice growing more and more timid as he went along. Mike had told her the scar was badass countless times, but she still didn’t like looking at it for too long.

“Hey,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. He looked at her with earnest eyes, his thumb stroking against her skin. “What I’m trying to say is that, like, a lot of the pain that’s inside is a lot like your scar.”

El’s hand moved up to cup against the back of his, keeping his palm against her cheek. “It might not ever go away,” he whispered. “But it’ll heal — it’ll hurt less, and it’ll become more bearable to carry. It won’t feel so heavy anymore.”

El wasn’t exactly sure when she’d started crying, only that she could feel Mike stroking the wetness at her cheeks away with his thumb, and the way his eyes flooded with urgency all of a sudden, and the way her bottom lip was quivering from underneath her teeth. Everything felt like so much all at once, and she could feel what was inside of her leaking out from her eyes shamelessly.

“When?” She found herself asking. She knew it was pointless; Mike didn’t have all the answers — he couldn’t predict the future, he couldn’t tell her when the pain would go away — but sometimes, when he spoke to her this way, it felt like he could.

“I don’t know,” he told her honestly. He gently pushed her leg off of his lap to pull her closer, burrowing her into him until her face was pressed against his neck and her arms were twined around his back, tight and steady. “I don’t know, and I’m sorry, I wish I did. I wish I could help more.”

El kissed his jaw, the closest place she could reach without straining too hard. “You do help. So much.”

He nodded against the top of her head; his nose pressed against her scalp. “I wish I weren’t so far away. I’m happy you’re safe here — trust me, I’ve never felt so sure that you were safe but — I don’t know, I just wish you were closer, still.”

“Me too,” El said, her arms squeezing around him tighter. “I hate being so far from you. Makes me feel like I….”

“Like you can’t breathe, sometimes?” El nodded against him. He nodded back. “Me, too,” He murmured.

Mike pulled back suddenly, his arms still wrapped around her waist as he looked down at her, a hopeful smile tugging at his mouth. “But, y’know what?”

“Hmm?”

“This won’t last forever either,” he assured. “It’ll get better, and then one day we can  _ choose _ to be together again.”

“It’ll get better,” she repeated, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. She hadn’t felt this sure about something in a long time. “Like my leg.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, smiling wider. “Like your leg.”

He pulled her in again after that, the two of them breathing each other while the world felt like it belonged solely to the two of them. For a moment, everything felt right — steady, and stable, and El wondered if the pain inside of her was already healing at his words, slowly and tediously, like her scar.

“I love you,” she blurted out suddenly, gently, her lips against his collarbone. They hadn’t said it so often in person — mostly over the phone, late at night, when they were sure no one else was listening. It still felt so new — so brilliant.

“I love you, too,” he whispered against the crown of her head before pressing a kiss against that same spot.

Eventually, as the night grew colder and the porch light began to flicker above them, Mike pulled away and tugged her up with him, his eyes happy and teasing. “I bet Will is done icing those cupcakes. Wanna go stuff our faces?”

El smiled and reached up to kiss him. And despite the dry, roughness of California air, nothing had ever sounded so sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all for reading!! hope you all enjoyed<3


End file.
